


Proof of life

by Jenchantress_stories



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Sam Winchester, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Top Dean Winchester, Top Dean Winchester/Bottom Sam Winchester, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:13:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23286082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenchantress_stories/pseuds/Jenchantress_stories
Summary: Hunts have gone wrong before but this time, Sam nearly died. Being alone in a motel room, the usual hugs don't cut it. They need to feel each other a little more.Sam is 16 and Dean is 20.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 136





	Proof of life

**Author's Note:**

> March 2020. These are crazy times. In my case, I got a lot of free time to read and to write. This is one of the ideas that have been stuck in my head for a while. There are hundreds of Sam and Dean first time fics out there. Here's my attempt.

Having each other's back, being each other's support and being each other's pain in the ass – it was all natural to them. Sam and Dean were always close. They grew up sharing one bed, feeling the other one breath at night, keeping each other warm. 

Only until a few years ago, when they became to big for motel single beds and settled for separated ones. Much to John's relieve, who started to feel odd about their son's affection for each other.  
What their father didn't know about was the hugs and snuggles they still shared after tough hunts and terrifying adventures. The way they wrapped their bodies around each other after treating bleeding cuts and bruises. Dean was Sam's safe place and Dean always felt calm having Sam close to him. 

During holidays, Sam would join John and Dean on hunts more often than during school term. Like he does this far too hot, humid summer night. A small wooden hut, just a little outside of a town. Lately, teenager entered this place but never got out. Behind disappearing humans is usually a supernatural cause, so John and his boys rolled into town, booked themselves a room at a motel and went to see the house about 1am at night, when the streets are empty and people are mostly asleep.

While their dad searches upstairs for any signs to identify the unnatural being, Sam and Dean look around the ground floor. They are on high alert, keeping their eyes open and their weapons ready, but still don't see it coming. Without a sound, sliding from the shadows came a cable that sneaks up behind Sam. With one swift move the cable winds around his throat and pulls him into a closet. 

_”Dea-!_ Sam tries to shout when his breath got cut off and his body disappeared behind the closet's door.  
_”SAM! SAMMY!”_ Dean yells while pulling the door knob. He hears Sam's feet kicking against the door, hears him struggling. Dean smashes his fist against the wooden door, helplessly.  
_”DAD! DAD! IT GOT SAM!_ Dean screams in panic. John comes downstairs, pushing Dean aside and pulling at the door himself before trying to kick it in. But the door neither cracks nor moves.  
_”Shit.”_ John curses and Sam's kicks become more frantic. Dean's frozen on the spot when John runs off, grabbing an axe from the Impala. To Dean's horror, Sam's kicks now become weaker. When John starts to smash the door, the kicks stop completely. By the time the door is destroyed, they find a motionless, pale Sam softly swinging from the cable. 

Something in Dean broke. This is impossible. This can't be happening. Unable to move he watches John cutting the cable of, carrying Sam carefully to the ground, loosening the cable from his neck. Since Sam doesn't start breathing on his own, John forcefully pushes his chest in a few times, cracking his rips, pushing the air out of his body until he automatically draws it back in again. Sam starts coughing and the colour of his face is changing back to normal.

 _”Dean? DEAN!”_ It takes a moment until Dean realises John is shouting at him. _”Take your brother back to the car. I'll burn this fucking house down. You stay with Sam.”_

Dean just does as he was told and carries Sam outside, putting him gently onto the back seat of their car. He keeps his eyes glued unto him, reassuring himself that he's still breathing, tenderly touching his face. With his fingertip he trails the dark line around his throat, still not able to understand what just happened. 

When the house is captured by flames, John gets in car. He puts his hands on the steering wheel, trying to calm his breath.  
_”How's he?_  
_”Still unconscious, but breathing fine, sir”_  
_”Good.”_

John starts the car and drives back to their motel. A few minutes before arriving, Sam wakes up.  
_”What happened?”_ Sam voice is slightly hoarse.  
_”The house kicked your ass!”_ Dean couldn't help it. He grinned at his brother since he couldn't be soft right now or he'd lose it completely.  
_”Is it gone?”_  
_”Dad burned that shithole down while you were sleeping like a baby.”_  
_”You're a baby.”_ Sam's annoyed his responds is kind of dull, but his head is still slightly dizzy. John smiles. His boys are going to be okay.

### 

They arrived at the motel and went to sleep. Sam was supposed to sleep on the couch, but after everything that happened, Dean insisted on swapping with Sam. 

The next morning, John left to check the burned down house. Luckily, there was nothing left to be haunted and a few hours later, they were back on the road, sitting quietly in the Impala. It was still unbearably hot and the purple-blue-greenish imprint of the cable was shining on Sam's throat. Dean feels sick whenever he looks at his little brother and this visual reminder of their close-call last night. Sam appeared a little lost, sitting alone in the back, his eyes empty while he pretends to look at the scenery outside. 

It wasn't the first time something went wrong. Sam patched Dean or his dad up often enough, stitching deep cuts while dark red blood was running down his fingers. How often did he go out at night, frantically looking for ice to cool a sprain or a bruise. Sam himself got hurt a few times, receiving his first major scar on his leg when he was 12. 

But the sudden inability to breath, the burning sensation in his lungs and the feeling of his consciousness slowly fading, the helplessness, Dean screaming his name... – it was a new level of terrifying. 

Sam couldn't get rid of the tingling his body felt when the lack of oxygen overwhelmed him. How his feet were desperately trying to find hold, how badly he wanted to shout for Dean but was unable to. He frantically prayed for the door to open and begged _no, no no... _when everything faded away.__

__His chest still hurt a little with his cracked rips, unable to move too much without an awkward pain. Nothing too bad, just annoying. The bruise on his throat scares him. He can feel it even without his fingers touching. A clean, colourful line on his skin._ _

### 

Just after sunset, they stopped at another motel. Without a word said, John checked them in and drops his own duffel back on the sofa. _”It's probably a good idea to let Sam sleep another night in a bed. I'll take the sofa this time.”_  
_”Thank you, sir.”_ Dean replied quietly.  
_”I'll be at the road house that we passed a few minutes ago.”_ John made a vague hand gesture implying the road house location before he leaves. 

As soon as the door closed and their father's steps were fading away, Dean walks towards Sam with solid steps, quickly crossing the small room. Now he can wrap his arms around his little brother's body to pull him as close as possible. Sam takes a sharp breath in, feeling his rips sting. 

It takes a moment, but Sam's arms slowly come up to answer the hug, first soft then more tense, fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt. They finally break, shedding tears, showing the emotions they held back for the last 20 hours. 

Calming down from the rush of despair and relieve several minutes later, they lay down on the bed, Dean spooning Sam, so he can feel him close, despite the heat, they need to feel each other close. Closer than before, but this time a little more careful with Sam's chest. Dean's hand slips under Sam's shirt to feel his heart beat, the steady rhythm, proof of life. 

Sam feels Dean's face in his hair, all wrapped up and save, his brother's hot breath on his head, the opposite of the cold tingling that his body felt when he slipped into unconsciousness inside the closet. 

Sam pressed his hands on Dean's, both taking this moment in, sinking in silence. They still got each other, they still are each other's safe place. When Dean's hand moves again, his little finger brushes Sam's left nipple, sending an unexpected spark through his little brother's body. Sam sucks a sharp breath in, pushing his hands harder on Dean's as he repeats he motion until the nipple is hard and a soft, quiet moan slips Sam's lips. A sound that sends a spark right through Dean as well. 

A spark that gives them life, gives them warmth, leaving them hooked and addicted, craving for more. 

Dean starts with playing with the right nipple, stroking it with one finger slowly, pressing it lightly with two. Sam's breath hitches, he keeps moaning, asking for more without words. Dean very slowly hints at going down with his hand, waiting for a sign that Sam wants this as much as he does. And Sam does, pressing his hand down on Dean's leading it across his warm belly, passing his waistband, right into his boxers. 

The moment Dean's fingers touch Sam slightly hard cock, Sam moans audibly. There's a shiver going through his body, pushing himself closer to his brother as he starts stroking. A rush of blood to the head, a growing need to feel the other one, to feel alive. They find themselves crossing a line in order to fulfill this need. 

They both are aware of how wrong this is, somewhere in the back of their minds, that they should stop right there, but _FUCK_ one of them nearly died last night and their whole fucking life is so wrong anyway. 

Dean is holding Sam tighter to himself, rimming his own growing erection at Sam's buttocks. Hitching breaths and quiet moans are filling the room, especially when Dean feels a few drops of pre-cum on his finger tips. He stops caressing Sam's cock and moves his hand to his back, sliding it between his cheeks, cautiously touching his whole. 

With a hot breath, Dean whispers into Sam's ear:  
_”I stop immediately, if you don't want this, Sammy. Not going to hurt you.”_  
_”No...”_  
_”That's okay, Sammy.”_ Dean was about to pull his hand out, but Sam stopped him, holding Dean's wrist.  
_”No, don't stop.”_ Sam whispers back, pushing his brother's hand further in again.  
_”I need this, please, I'm sorry...”_ Sam adds but Dean is shushing him.  
_”It's okay, I got you. I got you, and I'll take care of you. Need you, too, Sammy.”_

With that, he pushes the tip of his finger in. Sam sucks a sharp breath in. Despite all the sweat, it's a little too dry, so Dean pulls out again and holds the same finger up to Sam's lips. He opens his mouth and takes it in, licking his brother's index like a lollipop, covering it with thick saliva. The wet noise itself makes them completely hard. He pulls his finger out, pulling Sam's pants down beneath his buttocks before he carefully pushes his slick finger in. 

Dean thrusts his finger a few times before he brings it up to Sam's lips again, this time in company with the middle finger. A playful tongue spreads another thick layer of saliva on these fingers before they enter his hole together. This time, Sam moves his hips, meeting Dean's thrusting movement.  
_”You want one more...?_  
Mewling, Sam nods, greedily taking three fingers in his mouth, licking each one thoroughly. Dean hardly watches him, instead he has his eyes closed, rubbing his head on Sam's hair, taking in his scent, his movements, the whole moment. 

Even with utmost care, pushing three fingers in takes a bit. Sam's struggling a little but demands to keep going, adjusting until the pain of the stretch subsides.  
_”We can still stop. Don't want to hurt you.”_  
_”I need this, Dean, I need this, I need this.”_  
_”Whatever you need, I'm here”_  
Dean keeps whispering soothing words with the first knuckles inside his brother. With his other hand, he plays with Sam's nipples again, keeping the hot feeling run through his body up, distracting from the pain below and soon feels him relax. Gently thrusting, Dean takes his time on purpose, even though he knows the both want more.  
This is not some kind of teasing, Dean is holding back for Sam to relax, to prepare him. 

The air is getting too hot, nevertheless Sam keeps his hips moving up and down on the fingers inside of him, moaning and demanding silently, until he feels the fingers slipping out of him. 

_”Sammy...”_ Dean whispers as he takes his own hard cock out, poking and stroking it between his brother's buttocks. With a hitching breath, Sam nods. _Yes._

Dean spits in his hand a few times, collecting a puddle of saliva in his palm before coating his own hard cock with it. Both are holding their breath as Dean carefully pokes Sam's wet, hot hole. The younger one tries to relax, keeping control of the tension and excitement for the moment. Sam gasps as Dean finally enters, stretching him.  
_”You good?”_  
Sam nods quickly, overwhelmed by the sensation. 

It hurts. It fucking hurts, but the pain, the lust, the hot excitement rushing through his blood are giving him life. Dean unravels in the heat his brother radiates, in the gasps and suppressed moans, his demanding body language begging for this. Sam's here. Solid proof of life. 

Sam takes every inch that Dean cautiously gives him until he's all in. Silence. Time to adjust and to enjoy, before he pulls back a bit to start thrusting. Not too rough or fast – gently rocking back and forth. Wet sound from below, shaking breath above. 

Dean's hand is on Sam's chest, feeling his heart beat fast beneath his rips. The sound of them cracking when John dragged him back to life is still in his ears. But that was yesterday and this is now. One of Sam's hand is on his, fingers sliding between fingers while the rhythm of their hips accelerates. Sam's other hand is on his cock, stroking and stimulating. 

Their minds dissolving, together they unravel in a mix of need and lust, a sensual sensation as Sam gets used to the intrusion, the burning pain subsiding, he starts to relax, letting Dean in with ease. 

Dean's hand slides down to Sam's hip, holding it tight when he starts to thrust harder, a little more forceful, because he knows they're both close. The sound of sweaty skin on skin, keeping their moaning and mewling quiet is becoming a bigger challenge with every second. Dean is fucking him hard now, unable to hold back anymore. 

The sensation is overflowing as Sam cries out lustfully, coming hard in his hand and on the sheets under him. The shiver that runs through his body, the sudden tension pushes Dean over the edge as well, shooting his load as deep as possible into Sam.  
The room becomes quiet again. Together, they slowly coming down from a high, the panting subsides. They'd love to sleep but Dean softly shakes Sam.  
_”Dad can never see this. We need to...”_  
_”I know, I know...”_ Exhausted, Sam gets up to wash his hands and straightens the sheets again. 

Dean takes a quick shower. He feels frustrated. This shouldn't have happened. This wasn't right. When he comes out, Sam's already in his bed, wearing his pyjama pants, seemingly asleep. Dean looks a him. Despite being only a few inches smaller than him, he appears so small to his inner eye. 

_”Dean...?”_ His voice is still hoarse, plus he feels exhausted, but he knows that Dean will question what just happened. Sam himself is well aware of how wrong it was. So wrong and yet so good creates a ticket straight to hell. 

_”Thank you.”_ So quiet, it's nearly a whisper, but still it reaches Dean's ears.  
_”For what?”_  
_”Saving me.”_  
_”But I didn't...”_  
_”You did tonight.”_

Dean is puzzled what Sam meant, waiting for an explanation in silence.  
_”I needed this. Feeling you, feeling myself... I think we both did.”_  
Those words echoed in Dean's head. _We both did._ His little brother is probably right. Dean lays down in his bed, leaving the blanket aside since it's still too hot.  
_”Good night, Dean.”_  
_”Good night, Sammy.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this. ♥  
> Big hug!


End file.
